you are stronger than you know the power behind a well-worn broken heart, you are remarkable, glutinous, whole
I admire you you’ve given half of yourself to two different people and they’re growing into their own beings
Mother wolf, deviser of solid plans meshed in mathematical data, intellectual spirit
your eyes hold timeless love and I stand on sure footing bound to hear the re-emergence of sound from each blink
This poem is for my friend Alexainie whom we call “Zainey”, written on Valentine’s Day. It is my gift to her for being in my life and loving me as she does.
And how odd was the image of you that crept into the recesses of my mind as I looked on at a bond that began quickly, kept up with the changing of the times over the years, then pent itself into harm’s way by backing into a proverbial wall. Years later, that wall was torn down and those same souls who’d bonded quickly built the strength of their love up to a level that none of us can touch.
That is Salt. That is Pepa.
That is missing you. That is remembering graphic pictures sent to my phone. Skintight jeans cuffed at the ankles. Spaghetti strap tops. Fishnet stockings covering naked legs and supple ass cheeks. No panties . . . You were a voluptuous work of modern-day art and I salivated at your will.
Beckoned and Called.
I was younger then. Way younger. And I hungered for you. Those flicks kept me satisfied when distance had been too much to bear. I knew you were probably watching the biopic last night too and being overly-critical.
I was Salt. You were Pepa. And the difference between us versus them is we had lust pockets purging our friendship into a nasty ball while we allowed our feelings to turn into something bigger. I fell too hard, though. Something I was prone to doing many moons ago.
You pointed that out. My kind of love was not what you had been seeking. Still, you threw your bait at me and I swam to it like an eager fish. I had many nets. If I could have chosen, all of them would have caught you.
We didn’t part ways like adults should have. You stopped talking to me when you figured out the way I love could never satisfy you. I found that out five years later after dreading another ghost. It’s hard tracing the tracks of someone who never leaves footprints.
The music of our youth reached my ears and “The First Ladies of Hip Hop” reminded me of you and what I put you through and what you put me through and I wanted to pull them both into an embrace and tell them how brave they are for shooting the shit publicly and apologizing to one another for their wrongdoings.
This musical piece is one created by both Sandy & I. I love this song with all that’s in me. Writing the lyrics and having Sandy bring them to life was such a blessing. It still is. Coworkers at my previous job heard it and wanted their copies on CD which Sandy happily provided.
I hope this moves you. I hope you feel what we felt when we created it. Please click on the original post to hear “A World to Save.” Happy New Year, beautiful people!
Growing up, I was encouraged to have friends of various races and ethnicities
Community art in Greensboro, North Carolina. Photo courtesy of Tremaine L. Loadholt
I was fortunate to have grown up in a household with a mother who welcomed all my friends. No matter their race, creed, ethnicity, or culture, the people who drew me near to them found a home in our home because of my mom. And since my father and later, my stepfather, agreed with her stance, by default, they welcomed them, too.
I had Black, Mexican American, White, Thai, Chinese, Japanese, and Puerto Rican friends. Boys and girls alike ran up and down our stairs. My mom, on her happiest and most sober days, cooked for us. She would serve our favorite fatty foods around dinnertime, and if a few of my friends wanted to spend the night (weekends only), she’d reach out to their parents and seal the deal.
I was aware of our differences, but they held no weight when it came to love. I had a responsibility in my pre-teen and teenage years, and that was to love everyone. If I showed even an inkling of hatred or a small amount of disdain toward anyone, I had my mother to answer to. Trust me, I wanted no parts of her when she was angry. So, I walked the straight and narrow. I appreciated being able to befriend anyone and learn to love them, too.
No matter their race, creed, ethnicity, or culture, the people that drew me near to them found a home in our home because of my mom.
Me and Susan, so many years ago. Savannah, Georgia. Photo courtesy of Tremaine L. Loadholt
I have held some of these friendships for fifteen years or more. I’ve watched these beautiful people get married, have children of their own, and move through life with the gusto and persistence needed to tackle anything coming their way. I am so grateful for constant reminders of embracing “all God’s children” and carrying this info into my adult years.
Me and Theresa (I love to hear her oldest daughter say her name: “Te-Ress-ah.” It’s beautiful.). Atlanta, Georgia, 2016. Photo courtesy of Tremaine L. Loadholt
Even if we haven’t seen each other or been around each other physically, we remain in contact with one another. The beauty of technology these days is an intriguing thing. I can swipe a few words into the text message screen of my cell phone, click send, and communicate with all of them in moments. This beats our older ways of communication, which included the cord or cordless phone, letters, and a hop, skip, and a jump over to each other’s place.
Me and Vic being our silly selves. Atlanta, Georgia, 2016. Photo courtesy of Tremaine L. Loadholt
I see my friendships as stepping stones into a blissful life. These beautiful people have seen me at my worst and love me just the same. We’ve had our debates, arguments, and extreme disagreements, but we’ve pulled through and came out unscathed. If I can appreciate the word different and what it entails, I am sure every human being in America can learn to do this. I don’t think we’re meant to be each other’s enemies.
I don’t believe we’re meant to stand for purposeful things alone. It is my understanding and unmoving stance to stand together and rise together, too.
I am so grateful for constant reminders of embracing “all God’s children” and carrying this info into my adult years.
What we must do is shake whatever harmful actions and thoughts buried deep within us and move forward to a positive outcome. I would love to embrace everyone, no questions asked — no research performed, but during these incredibly divided times, that would not be wise.
I have to be smart in knowing who I can turn to and why. I also have to be as equally smart in those I seek to make allies. They must be equipped with the knowledge of striving for equality by any means necessary. Solidarity should be as close to them as the color of their skin.
If a girl raised in the deep South, brought up by a woman with a fierce love for all people, can love the differences in anyone she meets, surely you can, too.
Start today. It’s never too late.
Originally published in Our Human Family as a response to the Finding Gratitude Prompt via Medium.
I know so many women who’ve found themselves in this predicament. They’ve stayed so long with their partner(s) they’ve forgotten how to live on their own and they’re willing to remain in that relationship, regardless of how they’re being treated because it’s all they know–it’s all they’ve allowed themselves to know. And the fear of failing outside of the relationship scares them more than dying within the relationship ever could.
I’ve had to leave a couple friendships because the toxicity of what they were used to seeped into the seams of who we were. It’s harmful. It’s hurtful. And it’s a hindrance on their lives and the lives of others. Sadly, no one can force them out of their situations. It’s something they have to find the strength and belief in themselves to do.
It’s something they have to believe they’re worthy enough to do.
I can only stand by and love them as I know how. I can only support them in their efforts to become better as much as I can. But I’ve learned to remove myself from situations that are out of my control and I draw the line when I’ve noticed how hard one’s efforts can be especially when they’re ignored or avoided.
I can only wish them well when nothing else works and love them from afar.
A Cornered Gurl 
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